People are always saying they make better Grandparents than Parents. You know they will grow and do their own thing, you have more time, you can spoil and be damned the consequences. Not me, both roles were and are enjoyed. I stayed home with my kids. I loved every minute of it, the drop dead tired was superseded by the joy of play and discovery. Yes there were feral days, myself included. Yes there was cereal for supper, and unkept spaces, dirty dishes and piles of toys everywhere. Everybody has that, kudos to those who never got behind in housework, all homework was done and spent quality time with their kids. Tip of the hat if you never got behind in bills, laundry and self care. If your house wasn’t littered with more childhood papers than unwrapped gifts, were you even a parent? If you don’t have an insane attachment to that cut out handprint or a child’s first painting, tooth, pair of shoes that sit in a box for years, how can you prove they were little?
My Grands fought over sitting beside me the other day. They are tweens, I would never point it out to them, but the twinges that evokes while I hold on to their childhood as long as they allow me to. I have gotten away with my hand held by both this year and grasp to the thought that maybe being embarrassed of me might skip a generation. They are mine as much as their parents, there is no difference. I make them accountable, I withhold snacks, TV time and any consequence I have given my own. Kisses, squeezes, snuggles always!
Every generation after this one, I want a bond with! I wanna be great, great, great Grammie. The one with the energy and overflowing heart. The one they can talk to that gives the honest answers. The one to remind them of days gone by. The one with whole wheat bread and cranberry cherry juice that they love! The one who plays make believe and sings and dances. They absolutely do grow up too fast and we age along side of them too fast. While they want us, we do the best we can.
Momma Wouldn't Say 